


Dark Crossings

by dreamerfound



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Dancing, Dionysos on the dance floor, M/M, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-07 21:11:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20982431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerfound/pseuds/dreamerfound
Summary: Two gods cross paths on the dance floor.





	Dark Crossings

**Author's Note:**

> *see endnotes for content warnings
> 
> written for fan_flashworks #277: Cross and October2019 allbingo: Gods of the vine

Swaying on the tightly packed dance floor, with wine drunk Stygian eyes and glitter drenched skin; Dionysos stands in the center. Blood and booze courses through the veins of the surrounding throng, singing a song few can hear.

Dancers touch, sway and grind. The musky scent of arousal saturates the air, seeping into his pores. 

Dark curls cascade down his bare shoulders. A young woman reaches out and brushes her fingers along his skin. She tastes wine on her tongue as her body convulses with pleasure. 

Black lipstick and nails. Eyes lined in kohl. He makes his way through the crowd in tight leather pants that barely rein in his erection. 

Skin collides with skin. A young man runs screaming into the night, while another breaks down in tears. 

A raven-haired woman, short hair in spikes around her head. Her dress; a violet slip of a thing, clings tightly to her voluptuous form. Draping her arms around his neck, she fits her body to his. Rubbing against him, like a cat in heat, she cries out. He breathes in her delight, her joy, her passion. Sweat-soaked and satisfied, she stumbles away. 

Arms wide open, he spins round and round sending wave after wave of ecstasy into the crowd. Lights spark, music thrums. The frenzy escalates. 

A man leans against the bar, unaffected by it all. Tall, blond and strikingly beautiful. Like the sun gone slumming into the darkest of nights. His eyes an impossible gold. Dionysos lets himself get drawn in. A moth to a flame. Shining, warm and ready to burn his metaphorical wings off. 

He doesn't smile when Dionysos drags him onto the dance floor, but he doesn't resist either. Pale gold suit, edged in black. A little plain for Dionysos's taste. More than fitting for Apollon. 

"Have our paths crossed by chance, or are you here for me?" Dionysos sways to the music, eyes on his brother, crowd forgotten. 

"The music called to me." Neither a lie, nor the whole truth.

"Of course it did." Dionysos doesn't believe him. There's a nebulous cast to his eyes. Apollon is in one of his rarer moods. 

They stumble out of the club together just as dawn begins to lighten the sky.

"I suppose they should be happy they aren't ripping each other to shreds," Apollon says.

"Different times, brother." Away from the crowd, his head starts to clear. Can't have that. He pulls a flask out from nowhere and drinks deeply. Wine, bitter and sweet, drips down his throat. He holds the flask out, an offering. 

Apollon takes it and guzzles the liquid before tucking the flask into his jacket. "They don't look that different to me."

Dionysos smirks. He looks back at the club. A neon sign blinks CROSSROADS in bright red block letters. "I guess that depends on where you're standing." 

Apollon's brilliant eyes turn to Dionysos. His gaze travels up and down, offering silent judgment.

Dionysos thinks he looks too clean, too pressed, for these early morning hours. Pulling him in close his kisses him on the mouth. Smears dark lipstick on his lips. He takes a step back and smiles. Better, but he wants more. He wants to see Apollon completely undone.

"Did you say something about breakfast?" Dionysos asks. There's a hunger gnawing at him with razor-sharp teeth. Food won't satisfy it, but it may ease the void, if that's all he's offered.

"I didn't, but there is an all-night diner around the corner from my place." 

Two words. *my place* A promise. "Lead on, brother." Food can wait.

They walk arm and arm down the street, trailing stars behind them. No one notices. No one sees.

**Author's Note:**

> CW:
> 
> alcohol, sexual themes, dubious consent due to the presence of a god on the dance floor creating a sex pollen type effect. Incest between sibling deities (mostly implied).


End file.
